Mutt Jones and the Golden Star
by moonfan4eva
Summary: Twenty-one year-old Emmy Abbott was normal; until her brother decided to put her into danger once again. Now, she's on the hunt with a guy she doesn't know, trying to save herself, her piece, and the world.


**Chapter One**

_**~Emmy's P.O.V~**_

"Arnie, please don't! Do you know how much you'll get in?" I whispered to my brother. He rolled his eyes, and snarled at me, holding his hand up. I cringed and silenced myself, smoothing down my pink poodle skirt.

"'Course I know, Emmy! What do you think I am, stupid?" he growled. I shook my head, rubbing my arms. Annoyed, he smacked my hand. I flinched and froze. "You're gonna rub off the make-up, dummy!" I stepped back, ready to run. Again, Arnie rolled his eyes. Then he pushed over the entire row of the greasers' motorcycles. Arnie laughed as I clapped my hands over my mouth.

"Hey! Them preppies knocked over our cycles!" one shouted. I stood in shock. What should I do? What was I _supposed_ to do? I started shaking. "Get 'em!" they cried at the same time Arnie yelled, "Run!"

After several minutes of running, stumbling, and plenty of threats from my brother, we finally made it home.

Terrified, I locked myself in my room. I heard Arnie make up a fabulous lie as to why we were home late; easily sidestepping questions about why we were so dirty. Panting, I slid down my door, hoping the greasers wouldn't remember me.

Of course, I was wrong. As soon as my brother and I stepped foot in school, greasers glared at us. My brother snorted and pushed me into the midst of the glaring, leather-clad kids. I gulped and started panicking.

"Well?" an extremely muscly guy growled. I whimpered and took off, my skirt tangling around my legs. Running towards the safest place I could think of, I sprinted into Dr. Jones' classroom, slamming the door behind me. Unsurprised, my professor looked up from the papers he was grading and glanced at the greaser in front of him.

"Yes, Ms. Abbott?"

"Would it be, um, p-possible if I could, um, uh… st-stay here for the, um, day, professor?" I stuttered, fiddling with my hands. The greaser glared at me.

"You're the preppy who knocked over my cycle!"

I paled. "N-no… I… n-not…" Dr. Jones waved a hand absentmindedly at the greaser.

"Stop, Mutt. Obviously she didn't do it." Mutt glared at me as he reached into his pocket and took out a comb. My professor narrowed his eyes. "What's that on your arm, Ms. Abbott?"

I looked down at my arm and nearly yelped. A large bruise covered the inside of my elbow. I giggled nervously. "Oh," I said. "That? I, um, ran into a wall." It was an unbelievable lie, but he seemed to have bought it. He nodded, and glanced once more at Mutt.

"Mutt… I'd like you to apologize to Ms. Abbott for accusing her of knocking over your motorcycle." He spoke with a soft tone, but also a harsh one. I tried not to flinch. Mutt scowled.

"No can do, gramps. I saw her there." I frowned, and gave a little cough.

"Um… It's alright, professor… I'll just, uh, go to my class." I glanced nervously at the greaser, who was now flipping a knife around. I cringed when I saw it. Dr. Jones narrowed his eyes again.

"Why were you running in here?" he asked, and I paled again.

"It's nothing, really," I reassured him hastily, walking backwards, away from the knife that was being flipped. Mutt saw this and smirked.

"What? Afraid I'm gonna stab you?" he asked, flipping the knife again. I gulped and shook my head.

"Stop it, son. You're scaring her." I reached for the doorknob, and the knife flew into the wall just beside my face. I screamed, feeling woozy. "Ms. Abbott? Ms. Abbott, are you alright?" I heard a small _thwack_ and Mutt say a colorful word. "I told you to stop it!" I heard him snort.

"Like I'd listen to you, pops?" My professor growled, helping me up. I blinked, looking back and forth between Mutt and Dr. Jones. I sat down at the desks.

"Are you two… related?" I asked, tugging on my skirt. Dr. Jones nodded briskly.

"Bone-head over here is my son."

"Who you callin' bonehead, gramps?" Mutt growled, ripping the pocket knife out of the wall, and jabbing it angrily in my professors' direction. Dr. Jones simply rolled his eyes. I eyed the knife wearily.

"Don't worry, kid. He's not gonna stab anyone." Still, I was weary. Mutt snorted, and once again, I edged towards the door. My professor looked at me. "Emmy, something's wrong. Tell me, or you'll fail this class," he threatened. I gaped, blinking.

"A-are you… serious?" I stuttered, still shocked. He nodded, looking at me with fiery determination. I moistened my lips, about ready to tell him, and then the door burst open. I shrieked in surprise, and Dr. Jones had to stop Mutt from throwing his knife. It was my brother, masked fury settling on his features. I cringed, and looked at my professor.

"I— I have to go, professor."

Before Dr. Jones could protest, Arnie dragged me out of the room. My brother slammed me into the wall, after making sure no one was in the hall. I yelped, and he smacked me across the face.

"You little bitch, I bet you were going to tell him, weren't you?" he snarled.

"I would have failed the class," I whimpered. He sneered at me.

"Fucking nerd. No one likes you, you know that? I'd kill you myself if I didn't want to burden mother and father… by bailing me out of jail."

"S-stop it, Arnie. Stop it," I said, trying to wriggle out of his grip. He tightened it and I yelped. "Ouch, Arnie, stop it!" I started to cry. A door opened and Arnie released me and sprinted away, leaving me to crumple on the ground and cry. I heard footsteps and immediately straightened up, wiping the tears off my face. I hid my arm, which was now bright red, behind my back. Dr. Jones narrowed his eyes at me.

"Emmy, did your brother just yell at you?" I shook my head wildly, part of my hair coming out of my ponytail. "Really? So why did I just hear you tell him to stop?" I gulped.

"Professor… I should really go. I just remembered my mother needs me for… the dishes," I said hastily. "Yes, the dishes. I forgot to do them last night." I went to back up, but I was grabbed from behind. I squeaked. Mutt spoke from over my shoulder.

"Gramps, some people are looking for you," he said. "Something about Emmy and an artifact?" My professor cursed, and I stared at him with wide eyes.

"Mutt, take Emmy back home. I'll meet you there. If not… well, your mom will tell you." Mutt pulled me along, and I stumbled to catch up. He led me outside, stopping so abruptly I almost fell into traffic. Annoyed, my professor's son pulled me back. "Watch where you're going, will ya?" he snapped and on instinct, I took a step back.

"Sorry," I mumbled. He mumbled a 'whatever' and drug me along, until he straddled a motorcycle. I shook my head furiously. "No way," I said. "I'm not getting on that."

Mutt looked at me in a weird way. "How much do you weigh?"

"W-what? How does that have to do with—" Before another word could escape my mouth, I was on Mutt's shoulder and he was putting me on the motorcycle. He revved the engine.

"Hold on, preppy," he said. I squeaked and quickly wrapped my arms around his waist as we zipped down the road, narrowly avoiding cars and pedestrians. I buried my face in his back, and I'm pretty sure I heard him laughing at me. I didn't care; I just hoped I was alive after this. Finally, we stopped. Mutt looked back at me.

"You alright, princess?" he asked in a sarcastic voice. I didn't bother to answer.

"What's going on?" I asked, my voice trembling. Mutt grumbled under his breath, and I didn't even bother to find out what he'd said. I huffed and turned around and started walking. Mutt grabbed my arm and whirled me around. I winced when he grabbed my bruise.

"Where do you think _you're_ going, princess?" he growled. I started to shake, but looked him right in his dark brown eyes.

"I'm going… I'm going to find answers," I said, for once standing my ground. Something flashed in his eyes—something that I didn't understand. He didn't say a word; instead, he simply threw me over his shoulder like I was a sack of flour. "P-put me down!" I squeaked, trying to pull my skirt down even more. I'm pretty sure he was looking at my rear…

"Nope," he said. "Not yet." I huffed and crossed my arms. Was he really going to carry me into that house like this? What would his mother say? Finally, he set me down, and I brushed myself off, childishly sticking my tongue out at him. He remained stoic as ever. He barged into the house. "Mom?" he called. I scrambled after him, remembering that people were looking for me. A woman who was obviously his mother came out.

"What's wrong, Mutt?" she asked, drying her hands on a dishtowel. "Your father came home in the same manner!" Then she noticed me. Her eyes lit up and she smiled widely. "Hello, dear. Who are you?" I opened my mouth, but I was blushing too hard to say it.

"Emmy," I said finally. She smiled warmly at me. Then Dr. Jones ran up.

"Any trouble?" he asked, in a completely different outfit. Was that a whip hanging on his belt?

"Besides getting her on the motorcycle, no." I looked around, totally confused.

"What's going on?" I asked finally. Mutt's mom and my professor exchanged looks. They had a silent conversation that made me wonder if I really wanted to know what was going on. I shifted uncomfortably, not knowing what else to do but stand there awkwardly. Finally, my professor looked at Mutt.

"Mutt, your mother and I are staying here. Take Emmy to the airport and a friend of mine will help you."

"Indiana, will you please tell the poor girl what's going on?" She interrupted.

"In a second, Marion," he growled. He turned to Mutt again. "Tell him you're my son. You won't have any trouble then." Then he turned to me. "Emmy, do you know anything about the Star?" I blinked.

"The story where he caught the star for his girlfriend, but it shattered?" I asked hesitantly. My professor nodded.

"Except it's not a story and _you_ have one of the pieces to it." Immediately, my hand went to my throat, where a piece of multi-colored polished opal lay on a chain. Mom said to guard it with my life… could this be it? I pulled out the piece and showed my professor. He nodded gravely, and I tucked it back into my shirt. "Emmy, you have to keep that safe. Don't let anyone get a hold of it, okay?" I nodded, shifting my weight. There was a knock on the door; my professor cursed under his breath. He looked at Mutt, and in turn, Mutt looked at me. Wearily, I looked at Marion. She looked at me sympathetically and smiled. I sighed and looked at my professor. I hoped I wasn't shaking.

"Let's do this, then."


End file.
